


Seven Steps from Humanity

by Dream_edge



Category: Power Rangers R.P.M.
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Not Human, Attempted Rape, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Graphic Violence, Het, M/M, Magic, Multi, Slash, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_edge/pseuds/Dream_edge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>VENJIX’s army wasn’t just machines. We could have handled machines. No. Someone had given VENJIX magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> For background information, common terms, notes, warnings, and disclaimer, please see my livejournal post here: http://dream-edge.livejournal.com/10994.html

Summer Landsdown buried her hands in the rich soil of her garden at the family manor, smiling warmly when the steady pulse of the earth filled her mind. It was time to plant the new row of flowers, adding to the already immense garden. Her family had maintained a primary Witch bloodline for the past seven generations and each one had added to this garden at least once in their lifetime. Then again, her predecessors had all had a strong connection to earth magic; Summer, though, had only a minor connection to the earth. Her talents lent themselves more towards the psychic branch of magic, specifically empathy.

It had been a struggle to learn as the psychic gifts were rare, even among the Fae, and Andrews, who had been with the family long enough to have taught her mother, was as firmly grounded in earth magic as the rest of her family. However, years of struggling had eventually allowed her to maintain a strong control over her empathy.

She lifted her head when Andrews' psychic scent washed over her, telling her of his approach. The man was getting very old, requiring a tonic at each meal to sooth his bones, but he had been her faithful companion and almost-parent for all her life, had taught her more about magic and the careful etiquette required among the races than her parents ever had. "Good morning, young miss." He said with a smile as he knelled next to her. He paid little mind to the fresh soil now coating his pressed dress pants. But then, those with a primary Witch bloodline rarely cared if they were covered in dirt. "I have managed to receive word of your parents."

Summer stilled as she reached for a spade to help with the turning of the earth. Her family had been considered the masters of their craft for the past five generations and every slightly magical crisis required their attention. VENJIX was hardly a slight problem. Her parents had been in conference in Washington for months before heading south to help with the erection of rune-wards on the United State's safe cities. "How goes their mission?" she asked in quiet, formal tones as she finally continued her work.

"They have finished the conjuring of the rune-wards in Corinth and should now be heading west to Albyon." Andrews informed her.

"That's good." She said pleasantly. Andrews watched her for a minute before reaching for a tool himself. "If I may, young miss?" he asked. At her nod, he set to.

Barely half an hour later, Gabriella, the woman in charge of keeping the household running smoothly, ran out of the house. Her normally orderly brown curls were mussed and her blue eyes were over-bright with terror. Gabriella was the only member of the household that wasn't one of the woodland kin; instead, she was Human. Despite the fact that on a purely physiological basis, everyone in the manor was stronger than her, Gabriella was rarely intimidated- actually most of the household would admit to being a little afraid of the woman. Summer stood up quickly, heart in her throat, as the normally composed woman rushed towards her.

"Miss Summer! It's started!" Gabriella shouted half-way to them. Summer froze, the world going still around her for a second, before she forced herself to cross the last few steps between herself and Gabriella and gently grasped the woman's shoulders. "Be calm, Gabriella." She said, her voice heavy with authority and power.

Gabriella paused, her eyes glazing over as her emotions were forced into order. "Are you calm, Gabriella?" Summer asked. Gabriella nodded. "Alright, good." Summer said with a slight smile, maintaining a constant wave of calm over Gabriella's rocky emotions. "What's happened?"

Gabriella visibly braced herself; Summer grimaced as she struggled to force back the sudden spike of fear. "It's VENJIX, miss. He's attacked; full-out invasion of Washington."

While Summer stilled, turning white, Andrews stepped in. "Thank you Gabriella. Stay quite calm; we've planned for this, remember? Alert the staff, stay calm, stick to the plan." He ordered smoothly.

Gabriella nodded shakily and quickly headed back inside. The two watched Gabriella go before Andrews turned to her. "Center yourself quickly, Miss Summer. We need to move without hysterics." He encouraged before following in Gabriella's wake.

Summer take a deep breath, struggling to do as Andrews recommended before glancing up at the sky with trepidation. The wind carried an odd taint from the north. She shivered, took another second to calm down, then walked into a house gone half-mad.

Within the hour, the household was packed and shuffled into vehicles and following the carefully planned route to Corinth. Summer was packed into a Hummer with Andrews, Gabriella, and a younger man she though worked in the kitchen who had been given control of the wheel. "We're nearly two days from Corinth, Miss Summer."

"Government should have evacuated people earlier." Gabriella complained, leaned forward in her seat as she scanned the radio for news. Not that it mattered; VENJIX was managing to block most radio signals, had been for days. They had been lucky to have gotten any warning at all.

Summer sighed heavily, leaning her head against the door. "There was too much chance of alerting VENJIX that Corinth was important. If we'd evacuated, It would be heading to Corinth instead of Washington. You know that."

Gabriella huffed, trying to mask her fear with irritation; it wasn't working very well, she was pale white and Summer was honestly waiting for her to drop into shock. The matron's fumbling fingers continued to play with the radio, producing only static, until a voice suddenly blared through the speakers. They all started in surprise; the signal was oddly clear and the voice so terribly young.

"That's the voice that warned VENJIX had attacked." Gabriella said and frowned at the numbers that voice was listing. "What is that?"

"The coordinates of Albyon." Summer said.

 _"Please hurry. We don't have much time."_ The voice said before there was dull silence. After a moment, it came back _"Please listen. It's started. The VENJIX army is marching on Washington. You need to head now to Corinth on the East Coast or Albyon on the West."_

"It's just a recording." Andrews said, leaning back in his seat. Summer frowned at the road before them, at the growing population of cars.

"Change route." She ordered, making them look at her in surprise. "Screw the plan. We need to get off this road before we get jammed in."

The driver hesitated briefly before swinging onto a side road as suggested. It took longer but eventually they were free of the city; Summer glanced back to find the main road at near stand-still. A few cars had followed their new route and she was pleased to recognize two of them as from her household. With a relieved sigh, she leaned back in her seat again and let herself relax.

At some point, she fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the steady motion of the Hummer. She dreamed of fire and chaos, of the world disappearing beneath her feet. She woke to a world gone upside down, with the sky blood-red and the taint of VENJIX hanging heavy in the air. She coughed, her mouth dry with dust, grimacing when fire shot up her collarbone. She weakly raised her head and found it was not the world that had flipped, but the car.

"Andrews?" she called, coughing again and blindly reaching for the release button for her seatbelt. "Gabriella?" Abruptly, the seatbelt released, sending her crashing to the roof of the car. She whimpered with pain, opening her eyes to see the kitchen boy hanging in his seat as she had. She muffled a scream that was quickly replaced by a sob. The left side of his face was one long, open gash peppered through with glass, and his psychic scent was already fading into the feel of the dead. She closed her eyes, forced herself to ground her emotions, and pushed her gaze to the other passenger seats. It was empty, though Andrews's psychic scent hung heavily upon the upholstery still.

A soft, whimpering groan drew her attention to the front. "Gabriella!" she called, forcing herself up and to the door. All the windows had been blown in and pieces were scattered everywhere, biting through clothes and denim the whole way to the door. By the time she managed to force the heavily dented door open, her arms were bleeding sluggishly and a bruise was slowly forming across her collarbone and down her chest.

She tumbled out of the Hummer, whimpering in pain and horror as her hands landed on the ground and VENJIX taint bled across her senses, making her stomach roll unpleasantly. She laid on the ground in a crumbled heap, her breathe sobbing out of her, before she forced herself to move. Her hands were shaking by the time she managed to get the passenger side door open and it took careful maneuvering before she was able to unbuckle Gabriella without risking hurting her further.

By the time she pulled Gabriella out, she could hear feet shifting over the ground. She nearly sobbed in relief when Michael's-the witch-boy whose father did her parents' finances- psychic scent washed over her. She tried to call out, but her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and her throat was tight and dry.

The foot steps turned towards her. "Miss Summer?" Michael called, approaching her quickly. He knelled in front of her, his expression going slack with relief when he saw her. "Miss, I am so glad you're okay." He breathed, resting a careful hand on her shoulder. "You're alright now. It's okay." he said, turning to shout over his shoulder for the others.

She blinked heavily, tears slipping down her cheeks, and managed to ask, "Ha-have you seen An-Andrews?"

Michael smiled weakly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, but he's in bad condition." He said as other members of her household appeared and carefully took Gabriella from her and helped her stand.

She was escorted to another car quickly, all but shoved into the space between two seats because there wasn't anymore room. All of the seats were filled with the injured and barely lucid. The seat she was sitting in front of held Andrews. He really was in a horrid state; his left eye was swollen shut, his forehead was gashed open, his lips were cracked and bloody, and his clothes were torn and stained with blood.

"We think he's bleeding into his brain." Michael said solemnly. "Amelia's car was attacked, same as yours, so we lost our Healer."

Summer held in her whimper, leaned her forehead against the seat, and tried not to break down. Her household had once been 30 strong; now it all fit in two cars. "I see." She finally said blankly.

There was a moment of silence behind her before Michael's hand reappeared on her shoulder. "Miss," he said gently, "I should clean your wounds before they become infected."

She agreed dully. Michael sat himself in front of her and set to the cleaning of her wounds, sometimes forced to dig out pieces of glass. She all but ignored him, gazing around at her household sluggishly. "We need a bigger car." She mumbled.

"Should we hijack a bus?" someone from the front asked. Summer couldn't tell if they were trying to be sarcastic or not.

"Yes." She said anyways. There was a long moment of silence before a mutter of agreement reached her. Satisfied, she leaned her head back and tried to relax.

They must have drove for hours- though they were still somehow behind enemy lines- before fingers started to brush through her hair, weak and shaking slightly. She didn't quite jerk, though it was a close thing, and looked behind her. Andrews was staring at her with one eye, red and already watering, while the other remained firmly swollen shut. "How are you doing old friend?" she asked quietly, grasping one of the old man's flailing hands in hers.

"Poor, witch-child." He answered. "All of me aches and I am very old."

"You'll be alright." She told him "It'll be alright."

He gave her a weak smile. "No, Miss Summer. It won't."

"Miss Summer!" The driver called before she could respond. "We've found a bus. Should we hijack it?"

Andrews gave a weak grasp of her hand. "Go take care of them." He breathed. She blinked back heavy tears and nodded, patted his hand gently, and stood up. "Let's go." She ordered, stepping out of the car and hurrying across to where an old school bus was sitting half-off the road. It was in one piece, which was more than could be said for the other cars. It took only a few minutes before everyone and the few supplies they still had were loaded into the bus and got the engine running.

When she turned around to their old Hummer where Andrews still laid, Michael grabbed her arm and held her in place. "Miss Summer, I don't think you should." He told her in his gentle way. She turned to stare at him when the feel of death crept over her. "No." She whispered, "He's fine."

"No, Miss Summer. He's not."

She closed her eyes tightly to ward off the tears and pressed a hand against her mouth. "This isn't happening." She breathed quietly. Michael pulled her towards the bus, urging her in a quiet voice that they had to go. She glanced back at the Hummer where Andrews's body still laid, hating that he wouldn't even get a proper funeral. Finally she took a deep breath and walked away, trying not to crumble before everyone. "Get us out of here." She ordered the driver in a blank tone.

 _"Go take care of them."_

\--0--0--

Summer stared out the window at the desolate wasteland her world was becoming with a heavy heart. Her mental shields were raised as best as she could manage but the emotions of the others still leaked through, making her feel off center. As the world passed her by in a blur of gray and yellow, an odd psychic scent washed over her. She jerked upright as the rich, dark psychic scent of the demon kind brushed against her senses. Her gaze sharpened as she tried to pinpoint where it was coming from; it was definitely one of the demon kind, masculine, and with a slight oddness that marked his minor bloodline as something other than one of the demon kind. It was weak but alive. She stood up quickly. "Survivor!" she shouted, making some of the more lucid people jerk. "Pull over!"

Within seconds, the bus had pulled to a stop and Summer all but leaped through the opening doors as Gabriella, now thankfully awake, tried to call her back. The older witch was ignored in favor of the dull blue clad figure laying face down in the ground. She knelled next to him, taking a moment to run her eyes over the man's uniform jumpsuit. Pilot, she decided, eying the wings on the uniform. Finally, she rolled him over and reached for the helmet latches.

The man was black, dark curls held back in a military style cut. His eyes fluttered open briefly, revealing the blood red irises common among the demon kind. He gazed up at her dazedly, blinking slowly as he struggled to focus. His psychic scent was bitter with hunger. Summer nearly drew back when she realized which of the demon breeds laid before her. She spun around to yell at those still lingering nervously in the bus. "I need a knife!" She shouted. While they scrambled to obey, she turned back to the man. "It's going to be alright." She assured.

 _"No, it's not."_ Andrews's voice whispered through her head. She bit her lip harshly, shaking her head briefly to will away the memory. _Don't think about it._

Finally, Michael scrambled over to her with a kitchen knife. She grimaced but took it, eying the dull blade apprehensively. Demons were unique in that, unlike the other races, the only food that could sustain them had to come from another person. Each race required something different but the demon before her was easy to accommodate. She took a deep breath and quickly sliced through her palm, blood immediately pooling into her hand. The Vampire before her twitched and focused his red eyes on her palm with greed; however, his expression twisted rather quickly and he turned away from her. "No." He moaned pathetically, trying to slither away from her, even in his injured state.

She frowned tightly, clamping down on her annoyance before it could bleed through her mental walls. "Freely offered, freely taken." She said soothingly, the ritual words to offer to the demon kind without becoming prey. Those words had been used since the demon kind had emerged and by now were well ingrained in their instincts. The red eyes focused on her, centuries of trained instincts trying to respond to those words, though something in him still resisted.

That, of course, was when she placed the oddness in his psychic scent. By this point, the races were so intermingled that there were no pure-bloods; it wasn't unusual for an oddness to appear in a psychic scent as minor bloodlines slipped to the surface. The oddness in the man before her was from the Human race. Although the humans had eased remarkably in the last few decades, they still had their prejudices. Especially against the needs of the demon kind. Most demons that grew up around Humans ended up with a twisted shame about their needs. She grit her teeth, annoyance flaring into something almost like rage, and said as calmly as she could manage. "Freely offered."

There was a brief hesitation before the man carefully reached up and grasped her hand and quickly drank the cooling blood from her palm. Summer grimaced as the teeth scrapped across her palm but otherwise ignored it as best she could. After a minute, the man let go of her wrist and collapsed back on the ground, eyes going hazy and distant. She turned to Michael. "Help me get him into the bus." Michael looked uneasy about it but did help.

The bus was soon moving again as they settled the man in the back. The Vampire was trying to assist but he was still weak and it was an obvious struggle for him to even support his own weight. Once Summer was sure the man wasn't going to tumble off the seat, she knelled next to him. "What's your name?" she asked gently.

He gazed up at her with glazed eyes, half-asleep, but managed to answer. "Scott, Lady."

She offered him a reassuring smile. "Hello Scott. I'm Summer." She said pleasantly. "What happened to you?"

"I… I think I crashed." He said. "Got turned around and walked in the wrong direction."

She gently placed one hand against his forehead, rubbing circles in his skin. "Sleep now Scott." She whispered, even as she carefully manipulated his emotions until they were woven around him like a cloak. His eyes fluttered before finally falling fully shut. Soon, Scott was so deeply asleep Summer doubted anything could wake him.

\--0--0--

The group hadn't gotten much farther when two more survivors were found. Unlike Scott, these two were in remarkable condition, a little torn and definitely dirty but overall in good health. One was a little Fae girl, blonde and beautiful, wearing a sweet periwinkle dress, and maybe only 8 years old. The second was a Human, early 20s with a Scottish accent the girl delighted in. The Human was remarkably sweet-tempered and quietly brilliant; his psychic scent was accented with the feel of magic. Summer suspected he had a Witch or Fae bloodline in there somewhere.

"We need to slow down, Lady." The Human man advised. "VENJIX drones are everywhere around Corinth. It's a miracle me an' the lass didn' get caugh'."

He didn't need to say it really; by this point, the taint of VENJIX was so thick one could almost choke on it. The driver was already slowing without any input; Summer was considering ordering a complete stop until a better assessment could be obtained. "Do you know what's happening?" she asked.

He drew a weary hand over his face. "No' really." He admitted. "They came ou' of nowhere. It was chaos. Everyone was fighting."

Summer sighed heavily. "Do you know if the wards held?" she asked; the man merely shook his head.

"Is she yours?" she asked, looking over at the little girl curled asleep on a seat. The man looked briefly confused before laughing heartily and shaking his head. "No, Lady. Aye don' know who the child is." He smiled abashed and blushed slightly. "I have something of a hero complex."

She smiled warmly. "There is nothing wrong with that." She assured, earning herself a winning smile.

Eventually, they did stop and, when they nearly got discovered by a VENJIX patrol, retreated. "We should wait for nightfall." Summer advised, leaning against the driver's chair. The Human, Flynn, had taken over driving so the Fae who had been doing so could rest. He glanced up at her with blue eyes laced through with woodland green. "Good idea Lady." He agreed, eyes returning to the front to search for a safe place to hide. When Summer sighed and leaned even more heavily against the seat, Flynn said, in a voice oddly heavy with magic, "We'll make it through."

Summer blinked as she felt weaved magic settle over her and looked at the man next to her. "You're a luck granter?" she asked in surprise, though she knew she shouldn't be. Those with a minor magic bloodline didn't have the power to connect to one of the Branches so the magic developed in odd ways. One of the rarer ways that happened was the luck granter- or ill-wisher, if you upset them- who could change fortune with only a few words. It was impossible to tell a luck granter from their psychic scent, making them even more dangerous.

Flynn nodded and almost said something when a muffled groan interrupted them. Most of the household had fallen into an uneasy sleep, unable to stay awake after the two day drive; though a few, like Michael, remained stubbornly awake, moving little. The dark figure in the back was moving restlessly now, slowly struggling out of her sleep spell. She stood up and patted Flynn on the shoulder. "Drive us true."

"Always." He agreed with a smile.

Summer returned the smile and walked down towards her first straggler, motioning Michael away when he rose shakily to assist her. She knelt down next to Scott and banished the sleep spell with a touch to his forehead. Scott rose easily out of his nap. "Easy now." She cautioned when he glanced around anxiouly. "Do you remember where you are?"

Scott blinked up at her and licked his lips nervously. "With your household, Lady Summer." He said in a scratchy voice that made her wince in sympathy for his throat.

She nodded. "That's right. Would you like some water?" she asked. Scott sat up slowly, grimacing and holding his left arm close. "Yeah. That'd be nice." He said, looking relieved until she reached for the knife she'd placed on the seat across from Scott.

"Blood first." She said.

"You don't need to do that." Scott said hurriedly, reaching for the knife before she could reopen the wound on her hand.

Flynn called back to them before she could snap something about his bull-headedness. "If anyone's bleeding for 'em, Lady, it should be me. Of everyone here, Ay'm the one in the best condition."

" _No one_ is bleeding." Scott said stubbornly, managing to wrest the knife away from her. "My Vampire bloodline is recessive; I can go much longer without blood than a Vampire born from other Vampires. None of us can afford the blood loss." He stopped, looking tired. "Can I just have some water?" he asked plaintively.

Summer sighed heavily but agreed and stood up to get it. "How close are we to Corinth?" Scott asked, gladly accepting the half-full water bottle Summer had found in a stray bag.

"Abou' half an hour." Flynn called back. "We had to pull back. Place was swarming with drones."

Scott nodded and stood up shakily. Summer tried to push him back but he ignored her, using the backs of seats for support as he shuffled to the front. Summer glared at the back of his head, huffing irritably. _Stubborn males_ , she thought as she followed him. Scott sat down when he was even with the driver's seat, leaning back against the console. "If I may make a suggestion, Lady?" When she nodded, he continued. "We should run VENJIX's line at twilight."

"Tha' sounds dangerous." Flynn said before she could. "There's too much chance they'll see us."

Scott nodded. "I know." He agreed with a smirk. "They'll never see it coming." He looked back at her. "You run at full dark, they'll be waiting."

"Ye're crazy." Flynn said before sighing heavily. "Bu', ye're right."

Scott's smirk widened briefly before he looked up at her and the smile fell away completely. "Your household lady. Your decision." He said quietly. She watched him for a long minute. "Alright. Twilight it is." She agreed. She paused than sat down in front of him. "Do you know how the attack was going?"

Scott's expression shut down. "Venjix hit the Russian safe city first; learned about the rune-wards and turned his armies towards the other safe cities. The last I heard, New Berlin, Stone Hedge, and the Vatican were holding strong; however, what was left of Russia is gone, along with France, Spain, and most of Italy. We lost contact with most of South-eastern Asia around midnight on the first day. Around 9 A.M. on day 2, Japan's Honshu island was sunk; fucking drones used magic to call up the sea. About an hour before I crashed, we received word China had been nuked." He paused, looking at them sadly before he sighed and told them. "Albyon fell."

\--0--0--

Scott eyed the setting sun apprehensively. "Time to go." He said to the man next to him. Flynn made a sound of noncommitance in the back of his throat, looking at the sickly expanse of gray and yellow before them. "We can do this." Flynn said; it wasn't the first time he had said it and Scott found it immensely comforting each time.

He glanced back at the Witch who was assisting them. Lady Summer was shaking her household awake for the run. Scott would admit to being very relieved to have that much magical firepower behind him during this run. Most Witches had been kept behind the battlefield to power the rune-wards and so few Fae had managed to reach Corinth before their lines had been forced to retreat, so they'd had little magical support in the battle before he'd crashed.

"Ready, Lady?" he called back. Summer looked at him, woodland eyes surrounded by sleep bruises. Her hair might have once been blonde but now it was an ugly brown-gray and was slowly falling out of it's messy bun. A fine layer of dust had settled over her skin, her arms were covered in angry red scratches, her collar was purpling, and she couldn't close her hand from the scabbing wound there. She might have been pretty under normal circumstances, but as she was Scott was surprised she was still standing.

The Witch sighed heavily but nodded and headed towards them. "Grulla is trying to call in a storm but it's fighting her." She reported. "All the earth branches are out of commission; this taint is really playing havoc with their senses."

"We'll make do." Scott said. Summer nodded and turned away to give out further directions to those who were still well enough to defend them. Scott glanced at the man next to him and silently hoped this one, who so far had seemed blessedly level-headed, would not have the typical Human pride that refused to admit that Humans were considered a Passive race. He couldn't deal with that argument right now.

He settled a hand on the back of the driver's seat, right behind Flynn's shoulder. The Scotsman glanced up at him briefly. "I should drive." Scott said calmly.

"I can handle it." Flynn said, jaw clenching and hands going white-knuckled on the wheel. Scott resisted the urge to sigh; stubborn Human pride. Why did he always have to deal with it?

"I'm not saying you can't." He soothed. "However, of the two of us, I'm the one with the faster reflexes." He dropped his hand onto Flynn's shoulder and squeezed, cutting off whatever the man was going to say. "And, of the two of us, you're the one with the magic." Flynn looked up at him for a minute as his hands loosened on the wheel. Finally, he stood up and let Scott settle in.

Flynn clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Fair skies and well days." He wished, the spell settling around Scott like a warm cloak. Scott smiled slightly and nodded to him as those with a Fire Branch came to his side. "Everyone ready?" he asked as an odd wave of calm came over him. He glanced back, finding Summer sitting on the floor in a meditative pose, woodland eyes glazed over and staring blankly ahead.

"Right." He said when several affirmatives came back to him. "Let's ride, then."

There was no describing the chaos that chased them to Corinth's walls. The walls themselves rose before them, pale white and covered in glittering runes. Those walls had just appeared when the drones emerged and the world went to hell. Scott cursed as he was once again forced to swerve around another ruined truck suddenly then yelped as a blast from one of the drones following them knocked off the bus's driver side mirror. One of the witch-boys next to him went tumbling with the motion, making Scott wince.

It was a relief when one of Corinth's gates appeared and slowly opened for them. Once the gate was open far enough, soldiers poured out, quickly established a defense line, and sent a few soldiers out further to help. Scott stifled another curse when a Harpy glided quickly over the hood to land on the roof. In the far mirror, he could just make out one of the drones going down, chest exploding with bullets. The Harpy let loose a chilling battle-cry, half-wild and full of blood lust, before continuing.

Scott was only too happy to pass through the defense line and finally into the city. He turned around in the seat to watch the gate close behind him, meeting the Lady Summer's eyes on the way. She offered him a wan smile, looking dazed as all the strength that had held her household together slowly fell away now that they were safe. He nodded to her and reached for the control that would open the door.

His hand paused on the handle as his senses went out and he noticed the psychic scent coming their way. He gulped thickly but opened the door for the Witches waiting to leave. Settling his head on the wheel, he tried to steel himself for the meeting he'd have to face. And then the formal military debriefing. He grimaced, unsure if he was more worried about the debriefing or the dinner that would follow. He wondered if Flynn's luck spell would last that long.

"Scott?"

He looked up to see Flynn standing on the stairs, the Fae girl he'd saved clutching at his fingers and swinging their arms. Flynn was watching him curiously. "Ye comin', lad?" he asked cheerfully.

Scott nodded and stood slowly, watching Flynn step off the bus and make a beeline for one of the soldiers to hand off the girl. He stood at the top of the stairs for a minute before slowly descending into the city. He took a brief moment to admire how the ruin-wards kept out the virus so the sky was still a sweet periwinkle and the grass on the sides of the road was still healthy. Then his gaze turned from landscape to people and locked with the eyes of the one person he'd been hoping to avoid. So much for the luck spell.

 _Ah, fuck._ He thought as Colonel Mason Truman, one of the most accomplished military leaders despite being from the passive Human races, approached him. Scott held in his sigh and forced his weary body to straighten, saluting.

"Airman." The Colonel greeted.

Scott hid his resentment and nodded. "Colonel." _Not even a hey, happy your alive, Dad?_ He thought bitterly, though he couldn't say he was honestly surprised.

Colonel Truman gave him a searching look. "Report to the command center for a debriefing." Scott blinked as his father turned away, ready to protest the brisk treatment and the order. The quiet flap of wings and a long shadow falling over him stopped him. The Harpy from the roof landed in front of his father, large, dark tawny wings still held aloft; the woman's slightly avian facial features were lit with fury.

Scott went tense all over, carefully eying the woman who was using her wings to tower over his father. While Harpies weren't considered the most dangerous Predator race- that honor belonged solely to the Dea al Mon- but they had the most vicious temper and claws that were more like talons. "Colonel." The Harpy said in a terrifying croon that put a shiver up his spine. "Take a look at the child. He needs rest." The Harpy turned a sharp smile onto Scott, eyes still full of battle-lust, and he decided he wasn't going to protest being called a child if it got her on his side. "Surely the debriefing can wait until tomorrow."

His father glared at her but, unable to disagree, changed the time. Mason glanced at him, dark eyes guarded,and nodded at him. "See you tonight." He said as he turned to leave. The Harpy's wings lowered as she stepped to the side.

Scott sighed heavily. "Yes father."

\--0--0--

It was cold.

Her parents had been in Albyon. Albyon had fallen and her parents had been there. No word on survivors, barely a jumbled message as the city was overrun.

Her household was down to nine members. Half were still recovering from the poisoning they had received outside the walls. Of the nine, only Gabriella and Rohan had held senior staff positions.

Andrews was dead.

Summer huddled in the bathroom of the house her parents had bought last month. She should be glad that her parents had thought ahead, that, unlike most of the refugees, she wasn't stuck in a tent until the government could find housing for her. But the house felt empty without the generations worth of psychic scents seeped into the walls or the plants climbing up the stairwells. The house felt dead.

 _"No, Miss Summer, it's not."_

She felt cold.


	2. Part 1: The Beginning

Part One: The Beginning

Chapter 2

Flynn should have been surprised. He should have been shocked, surprised, even confused. But he wasn't. When he arrived at the building that was slowly becoming his new home a week after he arrived in Corinth, he found Scott sitting on the couch in his father's workshop. He blinked at the man's sassy grin but couldn't manage to work up the surprise that should be there. Scott being here felt… right, normal.

"Huh."

Scott's grin slid away at the bland respond. "That's the best I'm going to get isn't it?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

Flynn nodded. "Aye." He looked around carefully. "An' where's my da'?"

"He agreed to look at my truck while I waited for you." Scott said, then leaned forward like he was sharing a secret. "He doesn't trust me." Flynn snorted, unsurprised. His father didn't trust anyone when it came to his son.

"Come on. Inside with you." He ordered, leading Scott into the living part of the building. "Wha' are ye doing here?" he demanded as he walked into the kitchen. "Wan' a beer?" he asked. Scott nodded and plopped himself down on one of the seat's at the island, taking a child-like amusement in spinning it around. Flynn resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "If ye get sick, ye're cleanin' it up." He warned.

Scott's feet landed hard on the foot railing, pulling him to an abrupt stop. Scott didn't even seem slightly off-balance by the spinning, if his cheeky grin was anything to go by. Damn Predator races. "Wha' are ye doing here?" he asked again, handing the Vampire one of the beers he'd pulled out of the frig.

"Wanted to check on you." Scott answered, shrugging on shoulder. "Make sure you got settled in alright." The Vampire cast a speculative look around the open house. Flynn shifted, aware that the living room was only half-way painted, that the hallway floor was still bare, and that the whole of the house was still in need of furnishing. It was to be expected, considering the government had only managed to find him and his father housing two days ago; the only reason they had managed to get housing that fast was because they both had mechanical training the city needed to get itself on its feet.

Scott looked back at him, expression blank. "It looks nice." He said.

"Don't mock me." He snarled, magic gathering with his anger. So easy to give it direction, to say words in anger that could ruin Scott's whole day- maybe a week, maybe his life if Flynn wasn't careful-, to follow the channels Flynn had carved as a child and hadn't been able to seal. Too easy to ill-wish, so hard to give out the kindness of luck.

"I'm not." Scott said, spreading both hands wide. His voice was soft, filled with a quiet yearning that made Flynn pause, that made the anger die. No, not mocking. Just a quiet, half-acknowledged heart wish for a house that, even if unfinished, was at least home. Flynn sighed and grounded the power, let the anger go.

"Have ye word of Miss Summer?" Flynn asked carefully.

Scott's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yeah, actually." He said. "She uh… she fell into shock not long after we arrived." Scott informed, then, when he saw Flynn's wide eyes, hurried to explain. "She's alright now."

"That's good." Flynn managed to get out, knowing he sounded strangled. He turned his attention to the beer in his hand and drained most of it in one gulp. "How are ye holdin' up?" he asked.

Scott shrugged, playing his fingers through the precipitation on the bottle neck. "I'm alright. I've got a tense home situation. My father doesn't… approve of my… needs."

"Ye mean blood?" Flynn asked. When Scott nodded, he rolled his eyes. "That's stupid."

"He's _old-fashioned_." Scott said, voice bitter. "My brother's great but he's Human. He doesn't _get it_." Scott paused then snorted. "Great. Now I sound like I'm twelve."

Flynn couldn't stop the sharp laugh that burst from him at that; Scott frowned at him briefly then smiled slightly and shook his head. "Oh hey. I almost forgot." Scott said, sitting up a little to pull a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Flynn watched in curiosity as Scott carefully unfolded it and smoothed it out before passing it to him. He took it carefully, looking over the… application? Was this an application? Yes, that's what it was. For… Flynn squinted at the top of the page before his eyes widened. "Project Ranger?" he asked, looking up at Scott in shock.

The Vampire smiled at him somewhat cryptically and stood up. "Think about it." Scott said, and saluted him with his beer. "Thanks." He called, before walking out. Flynn didn't follow. He stood in his kitchen and stared at the paper on his counter and finally let himself consider Project Ranger.

-0-0-

This was such a bad idea.

Flynn stood awkwardly among the crowd of people waiting for consideration for Project Ranger. He was very aware that of the multiple people here, he was the only one from a Passive race, if one ignored the random Witch here or there. Flynn was, because they had full battle magics and were well respected among even the toughest of the Predator races. Already he was getting a few hostile looks from those around him, though most seemed set on ignoring him.

This was all Scott's fault. He hadn't been planning on coming, really. He'd almost managed to push the thought of Project Ranger out of his mind. Then Scott had waltzed in and all but shoved the application form at him. He knew this was something for the Predator races, that a Human didn't belong on the team, that merely coming today would give his dad a heart attack. But Scott had said to think about it and once he had, he couldn't stop.

So he'd come. He'd come because he had a Hero Complex that was going to get him killed and no one who could distract him. He should have expected the quiet hostility.

Quite suddenly, an arm was slung over his shoulder, drawing his gaze to the petite woman next to him. He went very, very still because, _holy shit_ , a Dea al Mon was hanging from his shoulders. A small, Asian Dea al Mon, but still from the best Predator race on the planet.

Dea al Mon were called the Children of the Wood because they were the first of the woodland kin, the first to display the woodland eyes, and because they were the perfect hunters. They were half-wild and always vicious in battle and if they weren't born knowing what to do with a knife, it didn't take them long to learn. They didn't have metaphysical abilities, but they were the fastest and the strongest race, the only race that was resistant to magic, as well as one of the few that could smell magic. Even an fool knew to fear the Dea al Mon.

Flynn glanced at the hand lying innocently across his shoulders, so close to his throat, and was almost relieved to see the rumors that Dea al Mon had claws much like a Harpy were wrong. Almost, because he could see the bulge in her long sleeve where a knife was hidden.

"Hey-a!" she said brightly. "I'm Gemma and that's-"

"Gem, her brother."

Flynn bit his tongue to hold in his curse, turning his head to look at the other Dea al Mon that had snuck up on him. He was so going to make Scott's life a living hell. "Hi." He managed weakly. "I'm Flynn."

Both grinned at him with smiles that were oddly comforting. "What-cha doing-"

"-here Flynn?"

He eyed the two carefully, wondering if the way of talking was just to throw people off or not. He wouldn't put it past a Predator race to be a little unhinged. "I … uh… a friend convinced me to come."

"Really?" Gemma asked, gazing up at him with eyes that saw too much of him. "That's all?"

"Mostly." He said carefully, aware of the brother shifting closer to him- and out of his line of sight. "I have a Hero Complex."

"Really?" The brother asked from somewhere behind him, in a tone that was identical to the girl's. "That's nice."

"Not so much. It's really quite a pain."

There was a flash of warm humor from both of them that made him relax. "Can I help you?" he asked unsurely.

Gemma's smile was almost sweet. "You already have." She told him. Her arm disappeared from his shoulders, causing him to shiver from the lack of warmth, and before he could say something, she disappeared into the crowd. When he looked behind him, the brother was gone as well. He blinked. How did two Dea al Mon disappear in a crowd of people that would prefer to be five feet from them at all times?

"Flynn!"

He turned around, already tired of being startled and confused and found Scott pushing his way through the crowd towards him; Flynn wondered if Scott's mouth hurt from how big his smile was. "You came!" Scott said, sounding delighted. Once the man was close enough, Scott reached out and pulled him into a tight, short hug. "I almost didn't think you would."

"I shouldn' be here."

"Nonsense." Scott said, shaking his head. The Vampire held him by his shoulders and looked at him intently. "Flynn, I honestly believe we wouldn't have made it here without you."

Flynn was already shaking his head before Scott had even finished. "Aye had nothin' to do with tha'."

Scott's hands dropped from his shoulders as the other man frowned at him. "Yeah." He said, obviously coming to a decision with himself. "We're gonna have to work on that." Flynn wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, except…

"Ay'm never gettin' rid of ye, am Aye?"

Scott's grin was all the answer he needed. Flynn sighed heavily.

"I should be surprised, right?" a soft, feminine voice asked. Flynn focused his eyes over Scott's shoulder and was almost surprised to see Summer standing there. Almost, but not really. Summer was here. _Of course_ Summer was here. Then Scott turned around, allowing Flynn a better look at the young woman and Flynn's growing smile faltered. Summer had cleaned up nicely from the last time he had seen her, but her hair hung in limp curls around her face that dulled the color to a pale wheat and put the shadows around her eyes into sharp contrast.

"Lady Summer?" Scott asked, sounding as concerned as he felt.

"Scott." She greeted, nodding at him with a quiet dignity that belied how truly exhausted she looked. "Flynn. I'm glad to see you two are alright."

"Lady, no offense, but you don't look so good." Scott said.

Summer gave him an irritated look. "Thanks." She drawled, with enough sarcastic bite to the word that Flynn felt some of his tension ease.

"Ay'm glad ye're here." He told her and really, he was. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how off it would have felt if only him and Scott had been here. She smiled at him warmly in response.

"EXCUSE ME!" A voice called, strong and clear, making the whole room turn. A Fae woman stood upon a platform on the far side of the room, looking at them all with cool woodland eyes. Once she deemed she had their attention, she continued. "My name is Dr K; I am the head of Project Ranger. While it is a pleasure to see so many of you wishing to defend this city, there are already two Rangers, so I am only looking for three new Rangers at this time."

The doctor made a quick motion with her hand and quite suddenly, she wasn't the only one on the stage. Flynn heard a few quick intakes of breath as the Dea al Mon twins appeared on either side of her. "This," the doctor said, slight smile now gracing her features, "is Gem and Gemma, the Gold and Silver Rangers respectively. As you can see, both are Dea al Mon. If anyone here cannot work with Dea al Mon, please leave now."

There was some anxious shifting of feet but no one moved to leave. Flynn glanced to his left to find Summer had gone white and Scott was completely tense.

"Good. Now, the Ranger technology requires very specific physical requirements. I can tell you now that not all of you will will meet those requirements. Those who do will be asked to stay for an in-depth interview. I do not know how soon we will be able to determine the chosen candidates, but I will try to keep you all informed. If at any point during this process, you feel you can no longer give this team your full and complete dedication, please contact us and retract your application immediately. This team can afford no distractions." She gave them all an obviously false smile and beckoned them with her hand. "Please follow me for testing." She said, and headed into another room,

As the crowd started moving around them, Flynn turned to the two people who were almost friends. "Good luck." He said, more than said because the world was bending around the two in response. He couldn't stop his soft smile as the luck spell took hold. "Let's go then." He said with a smile.

-0-0-

Flynn ached. It wasn't even that good ache that signified a long day of good, hard work. No, this was the ache that said he'd pushed a little too far and would be paying for it in the morning. All the same, he was glad to be out of that room. And away from the other candidates; he expected hostility, he hadn't expected it to be quite so obvious. "It's a death trap." He muttered to Summer, whose arm was wrapped around his. He wasn't sure if he was leaning on her or the other way around, but it made sure neither of them ended up on the floor.

Summer huffed an agreement. Scott, who was walking an exact two steps behind them, looked like he'd barely gone for a hard run. "Fuckin' Predators." He said under his breath. Summer giggled.

"This way." She said, tugging him away from the center of the room where couches and chairs had been put out for candidates when they finished testing. He looked at the comfortable chairs longingly but allowed himself to be dragged to the corner of the room; he wasn't stupid enough to distrust an empath's instincts. If she wanted him over here, there was a reason. Flynn sank quite gladly to the floor and leaned back against the wall, letting Summer rest her head against his shoulder. Scott remained standing, watching the rest of the room carefully.

When Flynn also looked, he was slightly relieved to notice that he wasn't the only one that looked ready to fall over. He even thought he saw a few Predators all but passed out on the couches. He wasn't sure how long he sat and watched a steady stream of people leave the testing room- some confident, others limping and pale-, it had to only be a few minutes, but eventually he had to move. "Summer let me up. Aye need a drink." He said.

Instead of lifting her head, Summer clamped a hand around his upper arm. Scott straightened from his slouch. "I'll get it." The Vampire said. There was something a little… queer about his voice. Flynn didn't notice, frowning at the both of them.

"The table's righ' over there." He said, motioning to the table that had refreshments laid out. It was only a few feet from where he was sitting; it was also surrounded by other candidates. "Aye can walk tha' far."

Scott turned on his heel to look at him. Scott's red eyes were glazed and almost sleepy; the sign of a Predator sliding into a cold rage. "I'll get it." Scott said again, except now his voice was more of a croon.

Flynn shivered and nodded. "Alright." He agreed, not willing to provoke someone sitting that close to the edge of a rage. Scott gave him a lazy, terrifying smile and turned to get them drinks. Flynn gulped thickly and looked at the woman sitting calmly next to him. Of course Summer had realized Scott's temperament. _Thanks for the warning._ He thought. "Did Aye do something wrong?" he asked.

"Not you." She said and there was something in her voice that made him take a much closer look at her. She was angry too. Red hot, because Passive races couldn't sink into a cold rage, but just as terrifying.

He thought for a moment then asked, "Because the others were tryin' to sabotage my scores?" he asked.

Summer's eyes snapped over to him, losing the sharp bite of her temper in favor of her surprise. "You knew?"

"Ay'm Human, not blind. They weren' exactly subtle."

"You're not angry?"

He gave her a look that was part annoyed and part befuddled. "Ye didn' see it coming?" he asked. Someone might as well have slapped her for the shock that spread quickly across her face. "Summer, Ay'm Human. Do ye understand what it means for me to even be attemptin' this?" he asked her. Though she nodded, Flynn could see she didn't. Not yet.

"They're trying to sabotage you because of your race?" she asked and she sounded quite like someone had shattered something fundamental to her world. "Racism is not that bad." She said.

"It's not." He agreed. "But, Summer, it's the end of the world and this is Project Ranger. It's not about prejudice. It's about 'em, making sure Aye don' get picked so someone they see as stronger can take my place. They don' think Aye can protect 'em."

"That's not right." She insisted.

He smiled at her sadly. "Welcome to life. It rarely ever is."

A hand fell on his shoulder, making him start. For a single moment, Summer's anger snapped through the room. Then Flynn raised his eyes to meet Scott's cool eyes and Summer's walls slammed back into place, taking the rage with them. The air might as well have been sucked out of the room in seconds for the effect it had. Flynn watched as others gasped and stumbled, eyes blown wide. Yet he felt stable, as if the rage had washed right by him each time, leaving him untouched. Scott's hand shook where it rested on his shoulder, but none of it showed in his expression. "Thank ye." Flynn said, as if nothing had happened, and calmly took the drink. Scott nodded and returned to his position slouching against the wall.

It was another half an hour before the last candidate walked through the doors. Flynn could honestly say that he was feeling much better at that point, not that he wanted to do it again cause he still hurt. The doors to the training room closed then and remained closed for several moments before opening, allowing the young doctor and the two Dea al Mon to exit. Dr K was carrying a stack of small folders.

"Once again, thank you all for coming. If I call your name, then I'm afraid you did not make the requirements to handle the Ranger equipment. If I do not call your name, then please remain for the interview." Dr K said, then turned her attention to the files in her hands. Flynn tensed, waiting for her to read his name from the top of the folders she was handing to Gem. But then she handed another folder to Gem and Flynn realized suddenly that it was the last one, and yet no mention of Flynn McAllistair.

As he stared at the three in disbelief, Gem's eyes drifted from the middle of the room to their little corner and looked right at him. The Dea al Mon smiled at him and nodded, a little movement that would mean nothing to anyone else. There was nothing compared to the euphoria that washed through him then. He had made the cut.

As Gem turned his attention back to the majority, tucking the files he'd been given under his arms, Dr K offered another false smile. "Thank you for coming, but your presence is no longer needed here. Please leave."

Summer made a sound in her throat next to him. "That woman has some serious damage." She muttered under her breath. He started to smile, stopped, then realized. "You made it." He said.

The Witch stilled, then turned to look at him with eyes blown wide. "So did you." She breathed, then looked up at Scott, who was making no move to join the slow crowd of people leaving. "We made it." She said, the start of a wide smile growing on her face. Scott looked at her with a matching smile; his temper was definitely warmer now, though he remained closer to that edge then Flynn would like. "So we did."

"If the rest of you will please remain here for a few minutes, we will begin the interviews shortly." Dr K said, then turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." Someone said, Flynn thought it might have been a Fae. " _He_ made it?" The tone of voice made it impossible to mistake who the man was talking about. Flynn stood up immediately so he could move quicker, despite the fact that the movement could be conceived as a challenge; Summer followed only a heartbeat behind. Scott snarled a warning; the temperature of the room plummeted as Scott slipped right over the edge into a cold rage.

Dr K turned back to them, examining the room with cool eyes. Finally, she looked right at him. "Name?" she asked.

"McAllistair." He told her. She nodded at Gem, who turned and entered the testing room. When he emerged, there was only one file in his hands, which he handed to the doctor. She glanced through it with a speed that told Flynn the file was just a formality, she knew exactly who he was and what his scores were.

"He passed." She said to the room. "Barely, but he passed." She looked up with eyes that had gone a few degrees colder. "Then again, the barely wasn't really his fault now was it?" she asked in a tone designed to scathe the skin off bone.

"He doesn't deserve to be here."

What was left of Flynn's drink froze over.

Scott's growl echoed through the room. He took a step forward but Summer's sharp call of his name froze him in place. Flynn tensed with no little fear; the Vampire was all coiled muscle and a brutal rage that would kill half the room before it died and the only thing that was holding him back was the will of one little Witch who wasn't exactly happy.

 _If there's a fight_ , he thought as strongly as he could, _then Scott has to win._ There was a brief hesitation, then the world shifted to his will. He couldn't change everything, if the Dea al Mon stepped onto the killing field across from Scott, the Vampire was a dead man; but against the others, Scott's military training would make up for what the spell couldn't change.

"Who are you to decide that?" the doctor demanded and now she wasn't so warm. "Leave, now." She ordered when she received no answer. "While you still can."

The man growled and turned away, Scott's glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. Flynn was just starting to relax when the air grew heavy, the man turned and flung out one hand, and the magic blasted towards them. There was one brief second where, for the first time, it occurred to Flynn that he never bothered to change his own luck. Why didn't he do that? He could.

Then Summer's hands curled in his collar, his arm was around her waist, and he wasn't sure which one of them moved first but they both ended up diving out of the way. Scott was half-way across the room before they even hit the floor. When Flynn looked up, he found Scott only a few feet from the Fae man.

Only Gemma had gotten there first.

The knife in her hand wasn't the one from her sleeve, couldn't be. The one she was holding was a wicked curved thing, the blade serrated and brutal. Flynn glanced at the Fae man crumbled on the floor and wished he hadn't. Dea al Mon always went for the throat, so the slash that had opened the man's neck clean to the spine wasn't a surprise. There was no reason, however, for the cut that had opened the man's gut and splashed his innards across the floor.

Scott stared at Gemma and whatever Scott saw in her face was enough to startle him straight out of his rage. He stepped back, looking uneasy, and Gemma turned to regard the rest of the room. "Anyone else?" she asked. Flynn would freely admit that his spine turned to gel at the terrible, calm fury in her voice.

The doctor sighed and shook her head, completely unfazed. "I had promised the Colonel no one here would die, Gemma." She said, but there was no accusation in her tone. Gemma turned to look at the doctor, expression still queer. Then a warm flash of humor lit up the room as the deadliest predator in the world willing stepped back from a killing field. "You're right." Gemma said. "I should have let the Truman boy do it." Then she nodded her head towards Scott.

Flynn rocked back in surprise, staring at his friend. Truman? As in Mason Truman, the man who was the current military leader of Corinth? Scott glanced back at them and grimaced but didn't disagree with Gemma.

The Dea al Mon casually wiped the blood from her knife on her pants leg before lifting the back of her jacket and placing the knife back into its holster. When the jacket fell back into place, the knife might as well not even be there. Gemma returned to her place at K's side.

"I think," the doctor said slowly, staring at the corpse on the ground that no one else wanted to look at. "That considering recent events, we should postpone the interviews for another day." She nodded. "Yes, I think that's best. Please report here this time tomorrow. Thank you." That said, she turned and entered the testing room. Gem followed her in; Gemma continued to watch them all, a smile that was too wide gracing her features.

For a long moment, no one moved, watching Gemma as intently as she watched them. Then Scott moved, turning to look at him and Summer with tired eyes. "I need a drink." He said adamantly.

-0-0-

Doctor K stared at the files that were currently hiding her desk from view. One file for every person willing to become a Ranger. There were so many to choose from; she would have to explain every decision to Corinth's military leader. It was supposed to be General Carl Lattern, a Lord of the Woods whom she had worked with rather well once she'd escaped the Soup facility. However, General Lattern had died in the Battle and his 2IC, Colonel Mason Truman, had taken command; Truman was a fine military leader but on a purely personal basis, he rubbed her wrong. Thankfully, his son Marcus had taken on the duties of 2IC and knew how to work with her way of thinking.

She approached her desk slowly, considering the multiple piles. She'd hoped to be able to shorten the number of files with the interviews; however, that fool of a Fae had all but put the knife in Gemma's hands. She shivered slightly in remembrance.

The Fae were a Predator race; she was as capable of that cold rage as the twins. She had felt the twins in the grasp of the cold rage before. She knew how to deal with it. But it had been the oddest feeling to stand between them, firm in the knowledge that she could leash their temper if she needed to, and then…

 _"He doesn't belong here."_

And then, in a heartbeat, they'd been riding the killing edge. She had stood between them, the cold burn making her hands ache, and known with a startling quality that this time, they wouldn't yield to her will. Even if the man had walked away, K knew he would have been dead before the day was out.

But the man had attacked and Gemma had acted. _Gemma_ had acted. The twins had decided without words that if they needed to act, Gemma would do it. Gemma, who was faster but also crueler. Gemma, who had slit open the man's stomach, even though she hadn't needed to. Gemma, who shined brightest in battle, who cared if she was covered in blood and body parts about as little as a Witch did covered in dirt.

She had never seen them go cold that fast before. She hadn't even known it was possible.

K shook the memory away. She had known the two were going to be tense with that many unknowns in the room with her. Any hostile action around her, who they called Pack, was going to end in death. While such a reaction was frowned upon, it wasn't unexpected.

She turned her attention back to the files. The twins had organized the files for her- she had needed them occupied while she contacted the Colonel. No doubt they'd gone ahead and put their favorites on top. The twins had been silent judges throughout the whole process, taking note of the things she couldn't pay attention to. They had a way of disappearing into a crowd; it wasn't a Dea al Mon trait, merely something from their training at Soup, but somehow they could make the eye slip right over them without the brain registering they were there. They had hid among the candidates, unnoticed unless they wished to be, and listened.

There were probably notes, in the twins' precise, identical handwriting, throughout the files. The twins could be very opinionated.

There was a single file, not in any pile, sitting strategically in the middle of her desk. She picked it up with a fair bit of trepidation; the picture stapled to the top page punched the air out of her. McAllistair. Her hands shook as she forced her gaze away from the photo. There were sticky notes; violently pink sticky notes pasted everywhere. One said _'Good man'_ , another was _'luck-granter'_. Then, at the bottom: _'has a Pack, vampire and witch.'_

Humans weren't a Pack race, neither were Vampires or Witches. None of them were born with the fierce protectiveness of the Pack bloodlines. However, if a Dea al Mon looked at the three and saw Pack, then they could be called nothing else. She could guess the Vampire was the younger Truman son; and, indeed, when she looked at the pile of Demon Kind applications, Scott Truman was the first file she found. The Witch pile, which when she looked was combined with Fae, was topped by a young blonde named Summer Landsdown. She placed the three files side by side and stared at them. Pack.

Then she acknowledged what she'd been trying to avoid.

The twins had gone cold long before the Fae man had lashed out. They had not been responding to perceived threat to _her_. They had been responding to a very real threat to McAllistair. And Gemma had acted.

"Gem! Gemma!" She called and picked up McAllistair's file as the two entered. She showed them McAllistair's photo and wasn't sure what to think of the way the two immediately tensed. "Is he Pack?" she demanded.

The twins glanced at each other. "Will it affect your decision?" Gemma asked, and of course the two were thinking about that instead of the very real possibility a Human man resonated with them.

"Of course not." She said hotly. "You know me better than that."

And because they did, they told her the truth. "Yes."

It took a great deal of effort not to react as she wanted. Instead she restrained herself to a single nod and turned back to the files on her desk, replacing McAllistair's with the other two. "Alright, thank you. You may go."

A single beat of silence, then the soft scruff of shoes against tile she could only hear because they wanted her to.

K let herself slump when she confirmed they were gone. Packs were formed over years; one could be friends with someone from a Pack race for ages before becoming Pack. It was a slow strengthening of bonds that no one could explain. Except, sometimes a Pack race met someone who they resonated with, whose personality fit so well with theirs that they were Pack immediately. They were more than Pack, they were equals.

She didn't resonate with either of the twins. She was Pack because Soup had put them together and somehow, she had become their friend. She had worked with them for years and then one day, she had woken up and she had been Pack. But she didn't resonate with them.

McAllistair did.

She closed her eyes and thought long and hard about the character of a man that would allow him to resonate with not one, but two Dea al Mon. That would allow a Human to run with Dea al Mon as equals.


	3. Part 1: The Beginning

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Part One: The Beginning

  


  


  


#### Chapter 3 

  


Doctor K had started the interviews with 34 candidates. She ended with 16.

Every candidate wanted to help. Most, however, did not have the personality and conviction needed to give as much of themselves as Project Ranger demanded; most would not be able to trust their team as completely and immediately as was required. Of the 16 she had left, the twins brought it done to 12 due to personality clashes.

So now she sat in the room she had been given at the new building that was to be the base for Project Ranger, the 12 remaining files spread around her in a half-circle. Those files contained more notes now, her own as well as the twins. And others. She hadn’t been the only one in the interviews, after all. Colonel Truman had asked to sit in on the interviews; She had allowed it because the Colonel was going to have to work closely with the Rangers. She hadn’t liked the idea of him being there, of him having any say in the interviews, but that was merely because of how fiercely possessive of this team she was. And because the Colonel was there, Marcus was there as his 2IC. She was just glad the mayor had acknowledged that she knew very little about military procedures.

She was also glad she’d managed to negotiate with the twins on their presence in the interviews. Gem had been in the room with her, sitting silently in the corner unless he felt the need to say something. Gemma had been in the main room with the candidates to ensure no one cause any trouble; K had no doubts they had remembered her.

She had 12 to choose from. One chance to get it right because once they were bonded to the Power, there was no second guessing. She had to find the best, the strongest. Except… Except Marcus had advised, as he and his father had packed and moved to leave, that _“You’re not looking for the best candidate. You’re looking for the best team.”_

He was right of course. Team compatibility was part of the reason she had eliminated so many candidates. It was also the reason three of the files were still in the running. Three files the twins had been tense about through the whole interview process; though she had steadfastly not acknowledged it. She pulled those files towards herself. The edges of the files were rough now, frayed from the many times she had looked over them.

Landsdown, Summer. McAllistair, Flynn. Truman, Scott. None of them were the best in any area, though all were surprisingly well-rounded with at least average scores in all areas. All had very good reasons for her to choose them; all had very good reasons for her to throw them out.

Landsdown was damaged, in mind more than body. Her spirit hadn’t been broken, not yet. But she’d been bent, and there were scars. The signs of trauma were there if you cared to look, shadows written across her eyes and psychic scent. There had been a strength in her though, strength enough to show that she would heal if given the chance. K wasn’t sure Project Ranger would give her that chance. Being a Ranger would be as mentally and emotionally taxing as it would be physically. The stress of that could prevent her from healing, might even cause a backslide.

However, she was a fully-trained empath. Someone who could not only sense emotions but influence them. If any more Predators joined the team, the ability to push someone into a calm would probably be not only appreciated, but necessary. With the amplifying abilities of the Ranger Power, the ability to push someone would become a very powerful tool, possibly to the point of being able to pull someone out of the cold rage.

 _“VENJIX has taken something from everyone and everything from far too many. Everyone has scars now Colonel. All I want is to prevent Venjix from making more.”_ Landsdown’s words, said in response to the Colonel’s stated concern for her reasons for fighting VENJIX and possible need for revenge. Landsdown believed she could be a Ranger. K agreed, perhaps precisely because she had lost so much to Venjix. However, due to her recent trauma, there was no way K would be able to put her on the team unless her Pack joined her.

That brought it down to McAllistair. Of the three, he had scored the lowest. Of all those left, he had scored the lowest. Even with the others’ interference taken into account, she doubted McAllistair would have scored over the lowest average quartile range. Even he had admitted it. It was the last question always asked, _“What do you think you can offer to this team that the others can’t?”_ Everyone else had given her some sort of ability.

McAllistair had been the first to look her in the eye and tell her with complete and unashamed frankness: _“Nothin’.”_ He had admitted, freely, that the other candidates were all stronger and faster than he was, that must of them had some form of metaphysical ability that could outmatch him. He had even admitted that his luck-granting could do little against real combat training, which he didn’t have.

Yet, when asked why he was there at all then, his one answer had been merely that _“Helpin’ people is who Aye am.”_ There had been so much strength in him then, when he said that he couldn’t not come, that he had to try. That interview had left her oddly satisfied; through most of it McAllistair had seemed so ordinary. Yet that last question, something in him had changed, had settled in him, leaving a being that was self-assured without being arrogant, that was noble and somehow stronger than any other candidate she had seen that day. _That_ was the kind of man who could run with Dea al Mon as an equal.

She almost wanted to put him on the team, almost, because she didn’t like how the other candidates had reacted to him yesterday. Everyone but Truman and Landsdown had emitted a quiet hostility; the last thing she needed was the team split right down the middle,which would happen because the twins would always side with McAllistair. So McAllistair had joined Landsdown; the only way he would become a Ranger was with the rest of his Pack.

Then there was of course Truman. Three Trumans actually, all stubborn, annoying males in their own right. If the youngest Truman did make it onto the team, the first thing that was happening to him was family counseling. Somehow, the Colonel had been unaware that his son was applying for Project Ranger until he had walked into the interview room. Which was strange, because K had told Marcus of his brother’s involvement in the mess with the Fae man when she’d reported the incident; apparently that part had been very carefully edited out by the time it got to the Colonel. Only her quick intervention during the interview had prevented a full on squabble.

Scott Truman did not have Landsdown’s damage or McAllistair’s weakness, but he had Issues. From what she had seen of him, it did truly deserve the capitalization. Not only with his own needs, but with his father, which could cause problems as his father was also Corinth’s military leader and someone they would have to work with on a daily basis.

But of all the remaining candidates, Truman had the best scores. He was a soldier, and according to his military record, he had a penchant for reckless maneuvers that turned out to be amazing strategy. He was also good with team building, at knowing who could do what, what their limits were, and how to best utilize those abilities. Of everyone, he was the one she’d choose to make team leader. The twins were amazing fighters and they worked together better than anyone she’d ever seen. But they only worked together. Another leader was needed to ensure they meshed with the group, instead of always doing things by themselves.

So unlike his friends, Truman remained very firmly in the running. The only reason she hadn’t firmly decided on him was his issues with Colonel Truman.

She hesitated then decided the Colonel could learn to deal and placed the file for his son in her lap. One decided, two to go.

After that, there really didn’t seem to be a choice. She wanted the best team. Individually, she never would have chosen them, but together, they somehow balanced out. They brought out the best in each other. Choosing just Scott was choosing only part of a puzzle. She sighed and grabbed the other two files as well. At the very least, she mused dryly, it would be easier to get two groups to work together, than three people and a pair.

 

 

The candidates mingled around the room as they waited to be called into the room. Three at a time, each to hear if they had been chosen to be Rangers. None came back out, leaving through a different room so as not to share with those still waiting for their turn. They mingled together, all except three who waited quietly in the corner, occasionally sharing a few words with each other.

Scott leaned against the wall behind him, sitting calmly between Summer and Flynn. Every so often, his leg would shift so his knee bumped against Flynn’s; it never failed to bring a slight smile to the man’s face. Summer was leaning her head against his shoulder, eyes closed as she pretended to sleep. Scott was sure she wasn’t actually asleep, her breathing was too methodical for true sleep.

Going home yesterday had been tough. Mason had not been happy that Scott had not told him he was trying out for Project Ranger. Scott was 24, he was pretty sure he didn’t have to tell his dad what he did anymore. Especially since he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to make it after the almost argument he’d had with his father during the interview; it hadn’t been very professional.

Yet…

“Did that twin say anything to you guys?” he asked quietly, whispering the words into Summer’s hair. Summer lifted her head up to frown at him. “One of the twins was in there?” she asked.

“Yeah. He was sitting in the corner. I didn’t even realize he was there until he spoke. Scared the shit out of me.” He admitted, grinning slightly.

“Gem.” Flynn said quietly but firmly. Scott frowned and looked over at him. “What?”

“The male twin, his name is Gem.” Flynn said, rather calmly, but there was an odd note of steel in his tone. Scott glanced briefly at Summer and from the expression on her face, she heard it too.

“Alright, Gem.” Scott agreed, because you didn’t upset an ill-wisher. “He say anything to you?” Flynn shook his head. “Huh.” Scott said and looked down at Summer. She shook her head as well. _Just me then_ , he realized and wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

He closed his eyes and remembered how, when he’d gone to leave, he’d caught movement out of the corner of his eye and Gem had suddenly been there, watching him intently. It had been chilling to realize the Dea al Mon had been there the whole time and he _hadn’t noticed._ One did not just overlook the most dangerous Predator on the planet. _“When my sister killed that man,”_ Gem had said, _“It knocked you right out of the cold rage.”_ It had, and he admitted as such. There had been something more than rage in her eyes, something more than the usual Predator wildness he was used to. That, and the knowledge she would tear him apart in seconds, had pushed him into warmth. Yet that hadn’t been the question.

 _“If you see her like that again, will it throw you?”_

 _“No.”_

There had been something very pleased in the Dea al Mon’s eyes when he’d answered. Scott had wondered, briefly, if the man had been implying he would see the woman like that again, would have to fight beside her when she rested on the killing edge, and would have to keep fighting regardless. The thought of fighting beside all that unstoppable power should have been frightening. The knowledge that he’d have to place his life in that woman’s hands when she danced on the killing field, that he would have to trust her not to turn that knife on him because she didn’t trust him so close to her Pack, should have been sickening.

Scott had never felt so alive than when he considered it.

“…Flynn. Truman, Scott.”

He blinked and raised his head when his name was called. Summer and Flynn were already standing up. The female twin-Scott thought her name was Gemma and that she didn’t have very imaginative parents- was standing in the door to the other room, three files in her hands and watching them intently. Also, they were the only ones left. When had that happened?

Summer smiled at him, humor high in her woodland eyes. “Finally come back to the normal world, boyo?” she asked, amusement layered rich in her tone.

He huffed agreement and accepted the hand Flynn held out to him, letting the Human pull him to his feet. They walked slowly into the room, bumping shoulders the whole way. Scott wasn’t sure about the others, but the contact eased the tight ball inside him.

The young doctor was sitting at the table, watching them with dispassionate eyes. His father and brother stood in one corner of the room. Mason did not look happy. Marcus did. When he looked at the twins, who stood opposite his father, he found they were positively giddy. That… was that a good sign or not?

Except… except then Flynn seemed to loosen, most of his tension just draining away. Something in him settled and a slight, barely there smile slipped across his face. When Scott looked over at him, Flynn was staring at the twins, they were staring back, and Scott was sure he’d just missed something.

The doctor cleared her throat, bringing eyes back to her. That was when he noticed the three boxes sitting on the table in front of her. His heart leapt. “You three have Issues.” The doctor told them and it was so clear she’d capitalized it in her mind he wanted to laugh. “A great many Issues. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t have chosen you.” She paused then and glanced over at his father before saying with annoyance. “Repeatedly.” His father coughed and looked away.

“Admittedly, Colonel Truman did bring up valid points that, if you had been alone, would have ensured you weren’t chosen. However, I am not looking for individuals. I am looking for a team, and you three already are one. A very good one, perhaps a better one than I could have created on my own. You compliment each other. And for that, you are the new Rangers.”

There was silence.

“Seriously?” Summer burst out, eyes blown wide. The doctor merely nodded. “Oh.” Summer breathed out. Clearly the knowledge hadn’t sunken in yet. Admittedly, Scott wasn’t quite ready to believe it either. Scott looked over at his friends. “This is the point where one of us wakes up isn’t it?” he asked.

Doctor K snorted and pushed one of the boxes forward. “You, Mr Truman, are to be designated Ranger Red. You will be team leader.”

“I will be?” he asked, at the same time as his father said, “He what?”

She nodded. “Yes. According to your service record, you have a mind for strategy and you’re good with people. The twins are amazing fighters but they’re too used to being on their own. For that reason alone, they cannot lead this team, though I assure you, there are other reasons.”

He hesitated only for a moment, then eased the box towards him. Inside was a red gem, dangling from a silver wire. Not a ruby, he realized immediately, though he wasn’t sure what was giving it the red color. When he picked it up, the stone was warm. “A necklace?” Summer asked, though he barely heard her over the roar that filled his ears as power rushed through him. A focus-stone, he realized. A very powerful one. Except focus-stones were usually clear.

Focus-stones were used to amplify metaphysical abilities, not physical ones. But Scott was sure that if he could figure out how to channel this power, it would make him stronger and faster than he could ever hope of being on his own.

A hand rested against his elbow and there was a slight tug on his senses. Summer, he realized, trying to show him how to leash this power. He did so clumsily, sealing it away. It was only then he realized it had been glowing, casting the room in an almost eerily red light. Now the light died down, until the stone almost felt dead in his hands.

The doctor was watching him with approval. “He’s a natural.” She told his father, which was funny, because neither Humans or Vampires had any metaphysical abilities, so there was no way he had the mental discipline needed to control this power. His father grunted, watching him carefully. “It is, of course, not just a necklace.” The doctor continued as he slipped the wire over his head. “After several years of research, we’ve managed to tie these stones into a power field that encompasses the planet. Its called the Morphing Grid. In time, you will be taught to access this power on command. It had three stages. The dormant stage, for when you are not accessing it. The amplifying stage, which will heighten every ability you have. The third stage is the armor stage. When used, you will be encased in a suit of armor. Use it sparingly, because it takes a great deal of energy to use.”

That said, she pushed another box towards Summer. “You, Miss Landsdown, will be Ranger Yellow.” Scott watched as Summer gently settled the stone around her neck. Once there, it cast out a golden light that cast strange intimidating shadows across her face. It lasted only a moment before she wheeled it in, a glint of amusement back on her face.

“Mr McAllistair, you will be Ranger Blue.” Doctor k said, pushing the last box towards him. Flynn opened it then hesitated, one hand hovering over the stone and looked up at K. “Are ye sure abou’ this?” he asked. Scott wanted to yell at him.

The doctor merely met his gaze calmly. “I am not looking for fighters, Mr McAllistair.” She told him. “I am looking for protectors. That is who you are, is it not?”

Flynn smiled and took his necklace.

There was a slight shifting out of the corner of his eye. When Scott looked, the twins had moved to stand at Flynn’s shoulder. They looked over at him with warm eyes and smiled. Except the smiles looked more like smirks and Gemma had just winked at him. That was when it hit Scott.

He was team leader. He was supposed to order those two around. … Sometimes he hated his life.

“Good.” Doctor K said, oblivious to, or perhaps ignoring, their silent exchange. She merely stared at them with a quiet smile. “This will do. Now, a base has been set up for us at this location.” She handed each of them a piece of paper with an address squalled across it in tiny handwriting. “Please, move in as soon as possible.” She said.

 _Translation: immediately_ , Scott thought, smiling slightly. “We’ll get right on it.” He promised.

 

Summer had brought plants, Scott realized when he finally arrived at his new home. Of course Summer had brought plants. Scott watched as his new teammate debated with herself on where to put the hydrangea she as holding. In a few weeks, when the plants started to grow with a little magical assistance, the whole building would look like a miniature forest. He wondered how long it would be before there were wines growing up the stairs. It would happen, that wasn’t a question. Not with a Witch on the team. He wondered what K would have to say about it.

“Tell me you did bring something other than plants.” He requested as he looked around. He hadn’t brought much, just some clothes, a few pictures, and a bottle of the blood wine. A normal Vampire could live on the blood wine for weeks. He could go months before he required someone to bleed. It all fit into two bags.

Summer glanced over at him and huffed. “Of course I did.” She said and turned to look at the other side of the building, holding the plant up thoughtfully. “You can park your car inside, I believe. Its awfully big in here.”

“Maybe it’s for training.” He suggested. Summer shook her head. “Training room’s next to the living room, which is off of the kitchen, over there.” She said and waved vaguely in one direction.

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She had been here longer. “Where are the bedrooms?” he asked.

She motioned to the stairwell off to the side. “I think you just take whatever you want.” She told him. “The twins are sharing, I believe. They took the farthest room. I’m in the second one in.”

“Is there any difference?” he asked. Summer shook her head. “Didn’t think so. Flynn get here yet?” he asked as he started up the stairs.

“No.” Summer called as she walked into the kitchen. She came back out just as he moved onto the third room. There really wasn’t much of a difference; just a slightly altered view out the window. When he counted, he realized there were two extra room. While he frowned at the hall, Summer leaned on the railing and called up to him. “Want me to put the wine away?”

“Sure.” He answered, than paused. “How did you know?” he asked, turning to look at her.

She looked up at him, her expression very clearly telling him not to be an idiot. “You’re a Vampire. Of course you have the blood wine.”

He smiled slightly and moved on. “Where are the twins?”

“No idea.” Summer told him, voice distant as she moved into the kitchen again. “The Doc’s in the lab though.”

Scott looked down at her from over the railing. “We have a lab?” he asked.

“ **She** has a lab. We just live here.” Summer corrected. “The whole place is also bugged.” Scott followed her pointed finger and found himself staring at a camera. He couldn’t tell if it was on or not. “Fun.” He muttered.

Finally, he just decided on taking the first room and slung his bag inside. There really wasn’t anything to see in the room. The walls were bare and slate gray; the floor was covered in hardwood; there as a bed, a desk, and a dresser; one window that didn’t show much and whose only function was to let light in. When he came out, Flynn had arrived. So had the twins.

The twins were carrying Flynn’s bags.

Flynn had a bemused expression on his face as the twins quickly took his bags up the stairs and shoved them in the room closest to theirs. “Is tha’ my room?” Flynn asked Scott, slight, mystified smile on hi face. He looked rather like a whirlwind had knocked him over, which was a good way of describing the twins.

“It is now.” He said, walking down to greet him. He nodded his head towards where the twins were walking back towards them. “What’s with them?” he asked.

“They followed me home.” Flynn said calmly, shrugging both shoulders and tucking his hands in his pockets.

“They… followed you home?” Scott asked and looked over at where Summer was standing now, frowning slightly with confusion.

Then the twins stepped calmly into place next to Flynn. “That’s it?” Gem asked, watching Flynn intently. Flynn nodded. “Tha’s it.” He agreed happily. Gemma was watching Scott and Summer though, and there was a strange look in her eyes that took Scott a second longer than he preferred to recognize. Challenge.

Then everything seemed to slide into place.Flynn was Pack, Flynn was their Pack. Flynn _resonated_. Well, wasn’t that interesting?

He met her gaze and nodded to her, not rising to that challenge. He acknowledged the twins claim on Flynn, even though technically he had met Flynn first, had been friends with him before the twins, so he should have had priority. Gemma blinked once then smiled quietly, everything about her calming and settling. “We’re going to get on just fine.” Gemma assured him.

“Won’t that be fun?” He said with more sarcasm than was probably called for.

Gemma merely grinned. “Welcome to Project Ranger.” She said. It was more of a statement than a greeting really, and layered under the words was a silent message. _You just described it in one, boyo._


End file.
